After the Storm
by Minao Tskino
Summary: The Opera Populaire is open again, and the Phantom has his eyes set on a new pianist. She is just like him- She is getting over a broken heart. Then he finds out her secret: She is a composer; and he wants her to play for him. But, what if all she wants is to be left alone? R and R for more chaps. PLEASE OCXOC then PhantomXOC. Minao Tskino
1. Please, Think of Me

**Please, Think of Me.**

**1**

* * *

_Night has always pushed up day._

_You must know life to see decay,_

_But I won't rot. I won't rot._

_Not this mind, and not this heart._

_I won't rot._

_-After the Storm_

* * *

"Sarah! Where are you?!" I giggled under my breath as Charles passed my exact hiding place. I tucked myself deeper into the blanket inside the closet. I heard his footsteps grow softer and softer until I couldn't hear him anymore. I slowly pushed open the door, and pulled the blanket off. I crept out of the closet, carrying the small jar, and looked left and right for Charles.

As soon as I knew he wasn't around, I picked up my skirts and sprinted as fast as my small legs could go. I turned a few corners, and then ran right into the person I was avoiding.

We both fell to the ground, and the jar was sent flying.

"No!" Charles yelled, reaching out for it. It smashed apart on the hard wood floor, and the small frog inside leaped out. He scrambled up, and tripped over my dress, sending him down once again.

"Sorry!" I stood up, and held out a hand to him.

"Don't help me! Get him!" Charles pointed at the little green body hopping down the stairs. I quickly ran after it, and caught the frog as it hopped to the floor.

"Got it!" I cheered, as he came down the stairs after me. He smiled, and I giggled.

"Sarah! It's time to leave!" My mother called. I put on a pout face, and handed the frog over to Charles. My mother and his mother came into the room.

"Goodbye." I said, and hugged him tightly.

"I'll see you soon." He hugged me back, careful to not squish the frog. I smiled, and turned to go with my mother.

My mother, and Charles's mother were the best of friends, and so was Charles and I. That was a long time ago, when we caught a little toad at the brink of a little pond. We were both ten years old.

At fourteen, we started to flirt endlessly with each other. I was starting to compose music, and he was studying geography. We felt like the world was made for us, and our future would be important and great.

I remember when we were sixteen, sitting at the brink of the same pond, at a party his parents threw for his older sister's wedding. It was midnight, and his brown eyes sparkled perfectly.

He was so handsome, and I admit I was not the prettiest girl. I had such unruly hair, and my teeth were slightly crooked. My chin and cheeks were alive with big red pimples, and my pours were gigantic. It seemed he looked past all of that, into my deep blue eyes, and saw a beautiful, normal girl. I remember sneaking out of the party, and running into the woods.

We held each others' hands as we stumbled through the darkness, laughing and tripping all the way.

"That was so boring!" He laughed.

"I'm glad we got out of there alive!" I giggled back. Suddenly, as if by fate, he tripped over a root, and we both fell forwards.

My eyes were closed, but I felt him under me. I opened them, and blushed as I saw his surprised face underneath me. He laughed, and smiled up to me. He suddenly leaned up, and kissed my lips. I was blushing even harder as he let go.

"Sarah," He whispered into my ear, "I think I might just love you." My face turned red, and then I instantly calmed.

"Charles. I think I might just love _you_." I whispered back. He looked into my eyes, and I looked into his. So many stupid thoughts of happiness and bliss flowed freely throughout my mind at that instant, and then he kissed me again.

I didn't want to be apart. I didn't want to live without him, nor did I think I could. The entire summer was bliss, and the autumn after was the same. I remember going to the Opera Populaire several times, and seeing all the most romantic operas including Faust, Hannibal, Romeo and Juliet, and Norma.

Back then, we both lived in Nice, France. At seventeen, we decided to get married. However, I was engaged by my parents to a rich man, Monsieur Louis Parsee. So, Charles and I ran away to Paris, France together.

I quickly found work as a help in a local bakery, and he worked in the stables of a rich vicount; both of us saving up to buy a small house. It was supposed to be perfect, and we were going to start a new life. We talked of children, and grand children. Of his dream to sail, and my dream of becoming a famous composer. Of music and stars.

Of our love.

* * *

Please R & R! This will be a long story, and I need support! Anyways, I have a question!

**Please answer this in your review (or a PM):**

**Should Charles and Sarah-**

**A-Be happy together 3**

**or**

**B-Break up, and Charles becomes infatuated with a rich girl.**

**It's up to you! Thanks!**


	2. Guide and Guardian

**Guide and Guardian**

**2**

* * *

_So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten._

_Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain_

_- Upward Over the Mountain_

* * *

My job at the bakery was hard work, as I was always rushing to help the next customer, and keep the bread from burning. At least I made good money. Charles and I were living in the same apartment. An unmarried couple living together in late 1800s was highly scandalous, so we weren't a couple. We were "relatives".

Every day after I finished up at the bakery, I would buy some food, and return to the apartment. Charles worked later than me, so I would cook dinner, and have it ready when he came home. I always made a different meal, to see what was Charles's favorite.

"...Yes, but do you _love_ it?" I asked him. He smiled at me, lovingly.

"Yes, I _love_ it." He pressed on. It was the same way every night.

Even though everything was great, I had a growing urge to compose again. Every night, my mind would flood with new pieces, waiting to be written. However, there was no piano for me, and it was too expensive to buy one.

So, when the Opera Populaire's pianist was fired, and there was an opening, I jumped at the opportunity to play again.

"Very nicely done. Next! A... mademoiselle Ames!" I heard my name being called. I stood, and walked up to audition up on stage.

"Hello, Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur André." My eyes stayed on the two men before me, but I would occasionally glance at the piano, my excitement rising.

"Hello, Mademoiselle Ames. The sheet music is already on the stand, so if you would." Monsieur André gestured to the piano. I quickly sat down, and read the title.

_Sonata No. 17- Oh! I've heard this piece before. But..where? _My fingers hit the keys, and my foot pressed the pedal. I proceeded smoothly, easily playing the piece. I loved the flow of it, the groups of three, all slightly different. I loved the repetition of the song, and the ever-changing tune. Music was my greatest love. Well, other than Charles.

There was only one page on the stand, probably because the song was originally about eight minutes long. At the end, I stopped and put the last notes into a chord.

"Lovely!" Monsieur Firmin clapped lightly. Monsieur André scribbled a note on a piece of paper.

"Next! Madame Spencer!" I hurried of stage, and passed a fairly skinny woman, with curly black hair. I sat down in the chair I had been in, and watched the next girl play the song. I could hear the song going faster than what I had played, and briefly wondered if I had been too slow. Then, I heard her falter on a pair of eighth notes, and nervously pause.

"Sorry..." She muttered, and continued struggling with the piece.

I think everyone was happy when she ended. Monsieur André nodded, thanked her, and called for the next pianist. Madame Spencer huffed, and sat down.

A Monsieur Bedeau, Mademoiselle Jetter, and Monsieur Neff later, Monsieur André and Firmin left the room to discuss their choice.

It took longer than I thought. It seemed Mademoiselle Jetter and Monsieur Bedeau knew each other, for they were chatting while the job was discussed. I sat and waited, hoping I would get the position. Melodies floated throughout my mind, and every second I didn't write them down, I was scared I wouldn't remember them. So, I drifted off into my mind, staring at the piano on the stage, wondering a thousand things at once.

"Thank you for waiting, everyone," I was startled back into reality when Monsieur André started talking, "But we only have one opening. Would Mademoiselle Ames please stand up?"

I stared for a moment, in happy shock, and then hurriedly stood up.

"Nicely done, Mademoiselle Ames. You have the position." They smiled, and I sat down.

"You all did respectively, thank you for coming." Monsieur Firmin said to the others. They stood, and walked out. I walked over to them, and they handed me the sheet music.

"Please learn this piece before saturday. Practice for Norma begins Monday, so be here at eight O'clock sharp."

"Oh! Monsieurs, I do not own a piano." I said, shyly. They glanced at each other, wondering what to do.

"That's..Unfortunate. I'm sorry, Mademoiselle Ames but we need you to be able to practice the pieces. We can't employ you-" André started.

"But remember what _he_ said!" Monsieur Firmin whispered loudly. I was very confused by this. Who was this _he_?

"_Who_ said?" I asked, not sure Firmin really said that.

He laughed nervously, "No one, Mademoiselle!" He smiled, but I was still confused by him.

"Yes! _Nobody_!" André pressed, glaring at Firmin. I nodded, slowly, and they both relaxed. "Mademoiselle, do you have a neighbor or a friend who could let you use their piano?" He asked.

Sighing, I said, "No one. Alas, I just moved to Paris, and don't have many friends. If I did, I would, but..." I just happened to glance at the piano on the stage, and my face lit up. "But perhaps, if it wouldn't be too troublesome, I could practice here...?" I asked, in a whisper.

"That could be a good resolve. What do you think?" Firmin looked over to Andre, who wasn't so sure on my idea.

"Possibly...But Monsieur Firmin..." He took Firmin by the arm, leading him a few feet away. He then continued to whisper something to Andre. They were both nodding at one point. Just then, something fell from the rafters.

Before I got a good look at the white thing, Andre snatched it from above him, and stood away, examining it. I quickly looked up, wondering who had dropped it, but there was no one there.

"Well, Madamoiselle, you are welcome to come play our fine piano here." Andre said. I smiled, and nodded.

"Thank you Monsieurs! I will definitly come by first thing tommorrow!" They nodded, and I hurried out of the Opera Populaire.

But I still wondered who was up in the rafters.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! R & R = more chapters!**

**Anyways!**

**Should Sarah...**

**A- Compose something and the Phantom should hear.**

**B-Practice the piece, and more info on Charles.**

**Review your vote!**

**-Minao Tskino**


	3. In Shadow I Hide

**3**

**In Shadow I Hide**

* * *

_Why don't you be the artist,_

_And make me out of clay?_

_Why don't you be the writer,_

_Decide the words I say?_

_'Cause I'd rather pretend I'll still be here in the end._

_Only, it's too hard to ask._

_Won't you try to help me?_

_-The Writer_

* * *

After I got home, I told Charles about my new employment at the Opera Populaire.

"Really? That's amazing!" He leaned forward, and kissed my forehead. I smiled.

"I know! It'll definitely pay more than my job at the bakery. I have to go to rehearsal on Monday, so I need to learn the piece by then. And the managers say I can practice it on the grand piano at the opera house."

"They're letting you practice it there? They must have really liked your skills."

_Or someone else did. But, I won't tell him about the mysterious person up in the rafters...not yet. _

I nod, "The piece was...Beethoveen's 17th."

"I remember that," He said, "It was one of the first songs you learned on piano."

"Ah, yes. That was years ago. When we were younger."

"Remember, I listened to you play." He added.

"And I was hardly good yet. I kept messing up the notes! It's funny, how much has changed.."

"No wonder you got the part!" He leaned in close to my face, "You _cheat_." He whispered, moving in closer to my lips.

"_Racsal..._" I murmured, as our lips interlocked, becoming a passionate kiss. These were the times I missed, when the rest of the world melted away, and it was just us left. I trusted him with my life...with my heart...

...The fool I was.

* * *

I awake with a startle, and my breathing is quick. The dream felt so real...I feel my lips, and they still tingle, somehow.

_Charles...He's no where as great as..._

I feel a hand on my arm, and I look over at him.

"Sorry to wake you, I had a bad dream." I whisper. He nods. I put my head back on the pillow, and pull closer to him. He puts his arms around me, and I feel so secure. My eyes flutter close.

* * *

The sunlight shined hard on my head, as I made my way through the streets of Paris. It's funny how fast the winter goes, and now it's the middle of April!

A little blond girl flew past, almost hitting me. I turned to see where she went, when a little boy came racing along as well. My mind instantly turned to Charles and I, and the time we spent together by the lake in Nice. I stopped and watched them for a minute, and then continued my walk to the Opera House.

A few carriages went past me, and I saw a woman selling clothing through a store window. The city was pretty loud that day, and business was flourishing in every little shop.

I stepped past three little girls playing with fancy dolls next to a house, and smiled at their youth and happiness.

I clutched my piano book to my chest as I stared at the doors of the Opera Popuaire. Stepping inside, I could see only a few people there.

_I wonder if I'm supposed to be here now. Maybe I should come back-_

"Are you Mademoiselle Ames?" A man asked me.

"Yes, Who is asking?" I responded.

"Monsieur Caraveau. The managers 'ave told me specifically to let 'ou into the theatre."

"Ah, good. I was wondering if I was wrong in coming here. Thank you for clearing that up." He nodded, and leaded me to the theatre.

He unlocked the door, and I walked in.

"Just come and tell me when you're done." He says.

"Thank you-" He shut the door, "-Monsieur." I finished in a whisper.

I looked around the large theatre, taking in its splendour. I sighed, in adoration.

"So beautiful.." I whispered.

_How did I not notice all of this before? Was I really that nervous about the auditions?_

Well, I must have been, because I definitely do not remember any of the gold people carved into the ceiling.

I walked up to the stage, drawn to the piano, and sat down in the seat. I placed the sheet music on the stand, and opened the keyboard. The bigger keys were pale white, and the thinner ones were a deep black. I looked down at the pedals, and tried each out. To my satisfaction, none of them squeaked. All were well oiled.

I took a deep breath, which might seem odd, as a piano is not a woodwind instrument, to ready myself for playing. My eyes scanned the notes, and I saw it was a beautiful piece.

My fingers hovered over the keys, and then suddenly, the music started. It kept going and going, as my fingers pressed each of the keys. It was an effortless task, yet it was pages long. I had to stop playing at the end of a measure, to flip the page. I hoped I would have an assistant.

Playing a new piece was always joyful, as I never knew what it would sound like. It was a welcomed surprise.

The piece ended, and I played it twice more to make sure I perfected it, then once more for fun.

I had been there a while, and should probably head home, as it was a long way and I didn't have money for a carriage.

However, as I stood up to leave, my composer side kicked in, overpowering my will with uncreated songs. I sat back down, and put the sheet music back into my book.

My fingers rested on the keys, and I thought back a week to a song I had thought up. My finger pressed the first few keys, and then the rest of the song came.

It started slowly, very softly, and then it rose up and up in dynamics and volume, becoming much more triumphant.

I pressed the foot pedal and quickly released it. My hands jumped up and down the scale, my breath speeding up for no apparent reason. My heart beat went faster and faster, beating along with the tune.

Slowly, the music started to engulf me, as it had on many occasions. My eyes became lighter, more excited, as the tune became darker and darker. Then, as I had planned, the darkness was eliminated by the triumphance it had started with. My fingers slammed on the major chords, filling me with joy.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect.

And then it ended.

Mostly because I couldn't think of how to continue.

My eyes scanned the keys, searching for the next measure. I bit my bottom lip, and sighed. Shutting the keyboard, my normal senses returned, and I had this unnerving gut feeling somebody was watching me.

* * *

**Well, I wonder who THAT was...**

**We might never know!**

**Anyways! Poll timeeeee!**

**Since A apparently won last chapter, should...**

**A-We learn a bit more about Charles?**

**or**

**B-Phantom POV on what's happened so far.**

**Both will help the story progress, but its the order that YOU need to decide! **

**'Till next time,**

**Your obidiant servant,**

**Minao Tskino**


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